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"The deuce take him!" grinned Sapt. "It's a pity," said I, "that he's a villain. Whom have we got?" We had Lauengram and Krafstein: they lay dead; and, concealment being no longer possible, we flung them, with Max, into the moat; and, drawing together in a compact body, rode off down the hill. And, in our midst, went the bodies of three gallant gentlemen.
"Because the other half of Michael's Six are there. I had enquiries made, and they're all there Lauengram, Krafstein, and young Rupert Hentzau: three rogues, too, on my honour, as fine as live in Ruritania." "Well?" "Well, Fritz wants you to march to the Castle with horse, foot, and artillery." "And drag the moat?'I asked.
"I hope all beneath your roof are not sick. What of my good friends, De Gautet, Bersonin, and Detchard? I heard the last had suffered a hurt." Lauengram and Krafstein looked glum and uneasy, but young Rupert's smile grew broader. "He hopes soon to find a medicine for it, sire," he answered. And I burst out laughing, for I knew what medicine Detchard longed for it is called Revenge.
Michael knew of my coming, sure enough. I had not been in the house an hour, when an imposing Embassy arrived from him. He did not quite reach the impudence of sending my would-be assassins, but he sent the other three of his famous Six the three Ruritanian gentlemen Lauengram, Krafstein, and Rupert Hentzau. A fine, strapping trio they were, splendidly horsed and admirably equipped.
Yet suddenly he smiled, and I smiled too, for old Sapt's hand lay in his left breast-pocket, and Rupert and I both guessed what lay in the hand inside the pocket. "Your Majesty asks whom we escort," said Rupert. "It is my dear friend, Albert of Lauengram." "Sir," said I, "no one regrets the unfortunate affair more than I. My ordinance, which I mean to have obeyed, is witness to it."
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